


Headcanon Fics (Tumblr Prompt)

by msrafterdark



Series: Originally Posted on Tumblr [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-09-16 15:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 14,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16956474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msrafterdark/pseuds/msrafterdark
Summary: I got real crazy one day and decided to ask people to send me MSR headcanons and I would attempt to write a ficlet. This ultimately started my whole venture into writing fan fiction.





	1. Biting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Mulder and/or Scully likes to be bitten.

The skin of her back is soft and slick beneath his chest and the feel of her muscles clenching as he drives into her gives him goosebumps. He loves the press of her round ass cradled against his hips, the silky scent of her hair brushing his cheek, and the strain of her biceps as she pushes back against him.  
  
He’s growing frantic with the feel of his beautiful little partner writhing in his arms. He glances down, seeing the elegant angle of her shoulder as it glides into her neck. Her hair has slid over to one side, leaving the other side bare and exposed. Save for a few cinnamon freckles, her skin is as smooth and pale as polished moonstone. He’s filled with the sudden overwhelming desire to know what she tastes like.  
  
He runs his tongue softly over the spot he was just gazing at, heartened by the little “mm” that interrupts her quiet stream of gasps. He kisses it, then at the end of a thrust he clamps down, not hard enough to hurt but enough for him to savor the tingle of her salt. Just for good measure he gives a little growl as he flicks his tongue over the pinched skin.  
  
She emits a noise he has never heard from her before - part gasp, part trembling wail - and she arches her back against him hard, as if trying to drive him even deeper inside of her. He obliges and scrapes the bottom row of his teeth against the hemorrhaging skin to see if she responds again. One of her bracing hands rises to slap the tangled sheets beneath both of them and she comes, thrashing beneath him as she collapses to the mattress and pulls him with her. He’s right behind her, both literally and functionally.  
  
Jesus, he later thinks absently, when they’re laying boneless and spent side by side, he’s going to have to do that again.


	2. Dry Humping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Scully loves dry humping.

He’s warm and damp from his shower and he smells so good. You’d truly only meant to cuddle with him, honest that’s all, but then he put his arm around you and you recognized that tonight he used the sandalwood soap you gave him for his birthday. You’ve never been able to resist that smell on him. You wonder if he’s figured that out.

He’s put that stupid movie on again - the one with Godzilla - and so help you it almost seems like he wants to watch it. But then you feel his fingers (connected to his hand connected to his arm that he’s wrapped around you) softly petting the back of your neck, gently playing with THAT spot. The spot just at the start of your hairline that sends shivers straight to your abdomen and makes your breasts tingle. God, you’re pressing yourself against his leg. No stop, just be with him, you’ve had a hard week, just relax and just sit with him. It doesn’t need to happen tonight, even though it’s happened for the last four nights in a row.

Shit, his fingers are in your hair now, how does he know JUST where to touch? You can feel yourself getting wet and your hips press into his side, your poor little clit aching for some attention. He’s smiling, damn him. He’s watching Mothra spew goop out of the top of it’s head (or something) and he’s smiling because he knows what he’s doing to your body. You want to be annoyed at his control over you but you decide instead to kiss him, right as he turns and presses those warm, wonderful hips against yours. He covers you, laying you down against the couch and you let out an embarrassing yelp of delight as the bulge in his sweatpants makes beautiful contact between your legs. You rub against him, responding to his nuzzles with nips of your own, marveling at how he managed to hit…oh…just there…god Mulder, yes…

God yes, you’re coming, he’s meeting your thrusts with jerks of his own and it’s so good, you don’t even care that you’re covered in sweat and have a snarl the size of a cherry at the back of your head. You love him, you love him so much and you know he loves you and this is the best and purest thing you’ve ever known in your life (you’d laugh at this ridiculousness if you weren’t still coming).

Both of you settle against each other and you kiss his ear, enjoying his weight as his breath slowly settles to normal again.

“I need another shower.” There’s a droll grin in his voice. You catch a whiff of sandalwood when he kisses your forehead.

“Good.” You smile.


	3. Shaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: scully shaves mulder (or visa versa)

Truth be told, he hates letting someone else shave him. He tried it a few forgettable times with college girlfriends and once a few years ago (he’d especially like to forget that instance), and each time he’d hoped it would be as sexy as he imagined. Too often he found that all it results in is a face smeared with shaving goop, patchy scruff, and likely a cut or two. It’s just better for him to do it himself; there are other activities that more comfortably occupy two people sharing their lives and a bed.

The reason he lets Scully shave him, though?

She giggles.

Admittedly she doesn’t do it often, but on the occasional lazy Sunday where she’s not going to church and they have no plans for the morning, she’ll look over at him while brushing her teeth in her adorable too-big pajamas. She’ll hold out her hand, her sleep-rumpled face wordlessly displaying an eager “Can I?”, and he can’t resist. 

He hands her the razor and she waits patiently as he lathers up his face. Every time she tells him to sit on the toilet and every time he obediently obliges her, smiling at the way her eyes wander quickly over his face as if she’s planning her technique.

She’s very careful and very methodical (he would expect nothing less), and the experience is quite painless. More than once she’s (perhaps deliberately) smeared shaving cream on his nose, on his forehead—she once even got some on his chest. Every time she does it she giggles.

And he lets her.

Because he loves to hear her giggle.


	4. Getting Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Mulder and Scully still have movie nights in S10 and switch off between their places each week but they always end up in a sleepover.

He has a blanket folded and waiting for her on the couch despite the fact that it’s eighty degrees in the evening. Scully is the only person he knows who manages to be chilled at the peak of summer’s heat.

She arrives in capris and a zip-up thready sweatshirt, carrying a handful of DVDs. She’s told him before to just get Netflix—it’s so much easier, Mulder—but he deliberately refrains from doing so. He likes the idea of her standing in front of the open drawer of her entertainment center where she keeps all of her meticulously organized media, mulling over which film to bring to their weekend movie nights. Tonight she’s brought  _Castaway, Road House_ , and  _Dirty Dancing_. The combination of choices amuses him and endears her to him even more.

He can see the pleasure in her expression when she realizes he’s cleaned the house for her and made them snacks. The “Ooo, Mulder, thank you!” she coos out when she spots the dark chocolate raisins raises the hair on his arms. Any sounds of delight, any display of happiness from her connected with something he’s done, arouses him and makes his stomach clench with affection for her. He’s so grateful he can feel that again.

They settle close on the couch to watch the romance movie (he knows that’s the one she wanted to watch in the first place). The first half hour is spent with his arm across the back of the sofa, but by the time the final dance scene has commenced they’re both lying on their sides, spooned together. True to form, she’s got the blanket wrapped around her slender hips. He’s sweating like crazy in the heat, but she seems so comfortable against him there’s no way in hell he’s going to change the arrangement.

She’ll stay the night. Nothing more will happen than a tentative kiss and a platonic sleepover, but the thought of her being there when he wakes up in the morning fills him with contentment. He plans to sneak out of bed early to make her breakfast.

“I’m getting better, Scully.”  He says softly, almost as if he’s looking for her doctor’s confirmation. He wants to reach out to her, to let her know he’s trying to be the person she deserves, the person they  _both_  deserve. He feels the soft coolness of her hand sliding into his to give it a squeeze.

“Yes, you are.”


	5. Office Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Scully loves rough (office) sex especially after having to deal with diana's incessant flirting with mulder for more than ten minutes

“I hate - that - woman…”

Mulder chuckled through his gasp and it only propelled her to thrust against him harder. He was sitting in his office chair, his pants down around his ankles as she furiously writhed in his lap, her hair mussed and sweat dribbling down the center of her back.

“‘He’s looking for support, not criticism’,” she mocked venomously with a grind of her pubic bone against her partner’s, “I’ll give her - ugh, criticism - she doesn’t know when the hell - to quit.”

“Mm, no she doesn’t,” Mulder groaned, reaching up to brush the humid curls from her face. Scully shuddered.

“Hate the way - mmf she touches you,” she whined, “Hate the way she - oh, Mulder - looks at you. You’re MY partner.”

“You’re right,” he mumured, his hands drifting down to scrunch up the blouse she was still wearing in order to squeeze her backside, “I’m all yours. Diana doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

“Damn right.” She growled, feeling her orgasm swelling and building in her abdomen. She was going to come any minute now, and with luck he’d be right behind her. She gripped at his shoulders, loving the feel of him achingly hard inside her. So close….so close…

“Scully?”

“Mm?” She could smell his sweat and his natural Mulder scent against her nose. His arms felt heavenly around her.

“Scully!”

“What!?”

Startled, she came back to find herself sitting across from his desk, her panties damp, her cheeks flushed, and her partner looking at her with an absolutely incredulous look on his face.

Oh my god.

“You were spaced out for about twenty seconds, are you all right? Diana just called to say she has something for us to look at.”

She took a deep breath, trying to will her heartbeat to something reasonably close to normal. And trying not to strangle the clueless look off his face. She sighed, shifting in her chair and clasping her shaky hands in her lap.

“Yeah sure, Mulder, you go on ahead. I’ll meet you in a few minutes.”


	6. Misplaced Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Mulder felt so so bad the first time he took Scully from behind because she's so much smaller than he is. Eventually he forgot his guilt because she loves how he surrounds her and tells him to fuck her harder.

“Mulder?”

He glances over at her from where he’s sitting naked on the edge of the bed, his spent erection slowly fading and his hands pressed to his face. He should have known he’d ask for too much from her. Three weeks in and already he unintentionally embraced the risk of physically hurting her, all because he can’t control his pathetic need and desire for her. Idiot. Brute.

She’s no longer lying gasping on her stomach, but has moved to kneel on the bed. Despite what they just got finished doing (she’s also still naked, flushed, and already looking so incredibly fuckable again), she looks so sweet and so sincere. It’s the same look she gives him that usually accompanies inquiries about his well-being or if he’s hurt. She can tell that he’s upset and the idea that her first instinct is to reach out to him humbles him beyond belief.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers mournfully, “That was too much…I could have hurt you.”

She looks genuinely confused now. Her soft hand gently clasps his shoulder and she tugs, forcing him to face her. Once again he’s reminded of how tiny she is when he sees her hand drift soothingly down his arm.

“What are you talking about? What’s wrong? You were fine until you came, what happened?”

Miserably he groans through his hands then drops them to his lap. He can’t bring himself to meet her eyes, instead focusing on the sweet little mark above her upper lip.

“I know you won’t like to hear this, but you’re so small—I completely lost control…and then when I realized you collapsed on your stomach I felt like an absolute jackass. We’ve never done it that way Scully, and I could have really hurt you…”

Unshed tears choke his voice and he hates himself. A soft puff of breath leaves her lips and he feels even worse when she presses her cheek to her shoulder, clearly mulling over what she’s about to say. Now he feels silly on top of feeling like an asshole.

“Mulder…” she finally says, “I loved it.”

He’s completely struck and it takes him a moment to fully comprehend what she’s just said. 

“What??”

“I loved it. I felt completely safe and surrounded by you and I was thrilled you felt comfortable enough to let go with me like that. The reason I collapsed was because you’d made my eyes roll into the back of my head.”

He’s still speechless and now she’s smiling, almost giddily at him.

“I know you would _never_ do anything to hurt me. I know you’d listen if I ever told you I didn’t like something. I trust you Mulder, with everything—including me.”

She presses a soft kiss to his mouth, and he loves the plush, damp feel of her lips against his. She gently rakes her nails against the back of his head and he shivers, feeling his doubts and shame being replaced by the recollection that the woman he loves is naked and beautiful beside him.

Then to his complete shock and wonder, she crawls on her hands and knees to present her backside to him and he’s gazing at her pink, glistening flesh. She casts a shy smile over her shoulder straight at him.

“Maybe…maybe you could do it a little harder this time…?”


	7. Authority Figure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: we all know Scully has authority figure 'issues' so she especially loves it when Mulder takes control of her orgasm, when he pulls her hair to kiss her neck, leaves hickeys not only on her neck and grips her waist so tight he leaves a mark oh and she secretly loves Mulder's 'dirty talk'

He’s been torturing her for the better part of fifteen minutes, touching, tasting, and rubbing her in ways even her vivid imagination had never considered in seven years of waiting for this. Currently he’s got his mouth to her flushed, swollen opening, alternating between kisses and nibbles plus a few hematomas to her inner thighs for good measure. She detects a few whispered words in between licks that make her both blush and wetter.

“Mulder, please…” She whimpers softly (Dana Scully does _not_ whimper), “Please…let me…come…I want to come…”

She can _feel_ her arousal grow with the smile on his face as his gaze wanders possessively all over her tight-as-a-wire body. His hot, wet mouth drifts slowly—enough to drive her _insane_ —over the slopes of her breasts and the ridges of her ribs. She whines as he grips her hands in his, raising them above her head to the pillows, then lets go and drags his fingertips down the length of her arms, over her armpits, and against the sides of her breasts. She shudders and her hips rise softly as she wordlessly begs him to soothe the thudding ache that resides so deep within her. He’s barely even touching her and her desperation might just kill her. She’s never wanted anyone—any _thing_ —so badly; in this moment she’s sure of it. She wants his silky length and his hot breath and his firm grip on her hips. She wants his voice in her ear as he growls how much he loves her pussy, loves her beautiful breasts, loves how she cries out when he hits that mystery spot even _she_ hadn’t known she possessed. She’d be damned if she ever told him any of this.

“Mulder,” She’s begging now, chagrined at the tightness in her throat. He finally, _finally_ slides tortuously slowly into her and she almost wishes it didn’t feel so _fucking_ good, because the pleasure is making her miss out on the rapturous look on his face since her eyes are momentarily closed.

“ _Fuck_ , I love you,” he shudders against her, and she wants to respond but he’s pulling her hair aside so that he can nuzzle and suck on her neck, and words are beyond her capability now. She finally summons just enough coordination to lift her arms and wrap them around his neck, just as he draws her legs up so that they’re pressed against her torso. She’s folded up, completely covered by him and she swears she’s never felt so safe and so loved.

He kisses her hard, his hand somehow managing to slide between their ceaselessly moving bodies and rubs her just so over the slick pearl of her clitoris. He’s gentle but she’s so overstimulated that it’s the slight pain that actually sets her off and she lets out a bark of his name, thrashing helplessly beneath him. She can vaguely hear his voice encouraging and admiring her, but for the most part she’s deaf, blind, and mute, only able to focus on the incredible way her inner muscles are pulsing breathtakingly around his length.

He waits for her to come down like the contradictory gentleman that he can sometimes be, and as she calms he presses soft kisses to her face and neck—gentle and loving, meant to soothe. He may sometimes possess her, but there never is any doubt that he treasures her.

She had been wrong before, she realizes as she softly encourages him to let go; _now_ she’s never felt so safe and so loved.


	8. Rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Scully likes it rough

Every time it happens you’re worried that you’re going to break her. Every time it happens you’re scared that _this_ will be the time you push her into the wall too forcefully, that you’ll grip her ass too tightly, that you’ll kiss her too hard. But she’s assured you, both verbally and physically, that’s it’s never too much, that she _likes_ it that way.

You’re only too happy to oblige.

Tonight you hardly made it into her front door before you pressed her against the entryway wall, murmuring her name before landing your open mouth to receive her gasp. Before you’ve even registered her taste, she’s ripping the suit you wore to dinner off your torso, and she’s already making the whimpering and mewling sounds that go straight to your dick. She’s a magnet and your body is made of iron.

You tear off the dress that you have just enough ego to assume she wore for you—she’s beautiful in it but you’ve known for a month now that she’ll look much more incredible without it. Jesus, she didn’t wear panties tonight. You were wrong, she’s not a magnet—she’s a super nova, and you’re stuck in the pull of her force field.

You suckle her neck as you enjoy the feel of her nails scraping your back and shoulders. You’re not even inside her yet but you’re already thrusting your hips against her and she’s pushing back in counter rhythm, her ass bumping softly against the wall. Your hand drifts down her smooth abdomen to touch her curls and you harden further when you realize she’s already so slick.

“I don’t need it, just go, Mulder,” she shudders, her hot hand gently grasping your cock. You kiss her hard and shove her up against the wall, trusting that she’ll wrap her legs around your hips in support. She does just as you slide inside her in one motion—you groan, she sobs. Despite the fact that you’re the one holding her up, you feel completely surrounded by her as you pound into her; her hands in your hair, her thighs at your hips, and her breathless voice in your ear.

“Harder,” she groans, her voice a growl in her throat, “God, Mulder _harder!_ ”

Again, you’re only too happy to oblige.

The next thing you know you both are in a sweaty heap on the floor, lying facing each other on your sides, her legs tangled with yours. You brush the hair from her face, and the expression she aims your way clenches your heart like it’s wrapped in a fist. This is the part you [almost] like the most, when she’s soft and relaxed and you’re able to enjoy her for just a few minutes more before you collapse into sleep.

“We should clean up,” She murmurs. Her cheek is pressed against the hardwood floor, and you wish it were against your chest.

“Mmhm,” You intelligently respond.

“We should go to bed,” She sighs softly. That one earns her a smile, because she’s inviting you to stay aaaaaall night. The flutter in your stomach should be a cause for embarrassment, but all you’re thinking about is figuring out how to convince her into a quickie before you both have to go to work in the morning.

Considering her response tonight, you’re willing to bet it won’t be too difficult.


	9. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Mulder is jealous

_You don’t own her_ , he thought, _She doesn’t owe you anything, she can interact with anyone however she pleases. You. Don’t. Own. Her._

The pep talk didn’t make it any easier to watch her talk and laugh with the deputy with whom they were collaborating on this case. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy, and he was convinced he had never heard her giggle like that in all the years he’d known her. It made him ache.

He was standing several yards away from them, watching them chat as he tried to look as though he really was looking at the file cradled in his hands. Deputy Cray was young, tall, good looking, and fit. He was also incredibly charming, if Scully’s engagement in his conversation was anything to go by.

He wished he was secure enough to trust that she had no interest. Childishly he wanted to walk over to where his partner was standing and wrap his arm possessively around her waist, staking his claim on this beautiful woman. But he had no right - a near kiss a year ago and a drugged-up but honest confession of love did not a romantic relationship make.

Then, to his dismay and immediate shame, he heard the deputy eagerly albeit shyly ask her if she would be interested in having dinner with him. He knew a nice place a few minutes from D.C., great cocktails, etc.

Against everything in his body screaming at him to resist, Mulder looked up, every hair on end, every muscle clenched as he waited with baited breath for her answer.

 _Please say no, Scully_ , he begged her in his mind, _Please say no and I’ll take you to the best damn meal you’ve ever had in your life…_

He was so intent on listening that it took him a moment to realize that she was staring at him over Deputy Cray’s shoulder, her eyes bright and intense. He helplessly stared back.

“I’m flattered, Tom,” she said clearly, gently, her words just as much for Mulder as for Cray, “But I’m already with somebody.”

Mulder’s jaw dropped. His heart lodged in his throat for an entirely different reason this time, and he could hardly breathe. Her eyes were soft as they held his gaze a few moments more, and all he could manage was a clumsy swallow. What blew him away was the fact that he could see in her face that she wasn’t using him as an excuse to get out of a date. She was stating, by any definition, that she was his.

He felt tremendously grateful. He felt loved. And he felt like an absolute heel.

She broke the gaze first in time to respond to Cray’s admittedly good natured acceptance, but Mulder didn’t hear what she had to say. He was too busy wracking his brain for the best restaurant he and Scully could eat at for dinner that night.


	10. Couples Code

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: They have a secret code to indicate when they're in the mood...

The first time he notices it, he wonders if it was an accident. Scully is meticulous, she always has been as long as he’s known her; it’s something that he admires because he’s so…so _not_ meticulous.

He comes out of the shower, rubbing his hair dry with a towel and then he spots it—the door that separates their adjoining hotel rooms has been left partially open. The gap is only perhaps five inches or so wide, but it is clearly not closed. Despite the fact that he’s not meticulous (as previously mentioned), he could have sworn it had been shut before his shower—Scully’s good at that kind of thing. She always latches doors, locks windows, shuts drawers when they’re on the road.

Quietly, so as not to disturb his partner in case she was already asleep, he takes a peek, surprised to find her completely swaddled in her bed, reclined on her side and reading. He pauses a moment to admire the toned curve of her arm and smiles when he remembers how recently he became acquainted with the feeling of those same arms around his bare back. His groins tingles with the memory, but he doesn’t want to disturb her, so he moves away from the door, dons his pajamas, and goes to bed.

The next night when they part ways for sleep, he makes sure to note that the door is closed. When he comes back however, the gap is there as it was the night before. He gets goosebumps at the possible implications of this—who else could have propped it open but Scully? Was this a signal? Was she telling him it was okay to join her? His heart soars at the thought but again, he doesn’t want to disturb her. He goes to bed.

Third night: check door, take shower, door is open when he steps out again. Okay, it has to be deliberate, there’s no other explanation. With his heart in his throat he pushes the door fully open. Her room is dark, but he can just make out her pillow-rumpled head rise and settle back down again as he enters. With only slight hesitation, he makes his way gingerly to the bed and crawls in silently beside her. She turns to him as soon as he lays down. He can see her teeth glint in a bald-faced grin.

“Mm, about time,” she sighs and he feels like a million dollars for reading her correctly. He presses closer to her, resting his hand on the small swell of her hip. He kisses her forehead.

“Is this okay?” he asks for reassurance into the cool shell of her ear. She wriggles happily against him and nods.

“Y’know, Mulder,” the smile is soft in her voice, “I’ve had that door open for the past three nights…you were always welcome.”

He’s indescribably pleased. He’s even more pleased when he wraps his arms around her and discovers she’s completely naked beneath the sheets.


	11. Fox Mulder, MD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Mulder tends to be overprotective of Scully when she is sick, especially after they get together. He knows she is a medical doctor and can take care of herself but some primitive part of him wants to take care of her.

She sounded so miserable on the phone, and it was wringing his heart out. He promised her faithfully that he’d stay in the office when she called in sick, but after fifteen minutes of agonizing over whether she had enough to eat and was warm enough, he grabbed his coat and hightailed it to her apartment as quickly as his Taurus could manage.

To her credit she was reasonably gracious when she let him in, holding a crumpled tissue in her hand and her robe drooping haphazardly around her shoulders. Despite her chapped nose and mussed hair, she looked so precious to him and he wanted nothing more than to hold her close until all the pathogens left her system.

He knew she _really_ wasn’t feeling well when she wordlessly shuffled back to her room without offering him so much as a glass of water - that wasn’t like her at all. Immediately he fell into nurse mode.

“Do you need orange juice, Scully?”

“I’m good, thanks Mulder.”

“Do you have enough tissues? How about blankets?”

He’d followed her into the bedroom at this point, where she gracelessly flopped back into the covers.

“I’m okay,” she sneezed, dabbing at her leaky eyes, “I just want to rest. You really didn’t have to come over.”

“What about some soup? I can make some MEAN chicken soup. Or a -” he was interrupted by her mucus-y, hacking cough, “Do you need a cough drop?”

“Mulder, I’m fine!” She finally snapped, her bleary eyes flashing, “I don’t need your hovering, I don’t need your cough drops, I don’t need your babying! I’m a grown woman and it’s just a cold - I can take care of myself!”

The silence was heavy and intensely awkward, only broken by the slight rasp of Scully’s congested breathing. He hazarded a glance at her, and she just continued to stare at the quilt covering her legs. Despite her outburst, he couldn’t stand the thought of her feeling so sick and by herself, he wanted to help her feel better.

He decided to just go for broke.

“Look, Scully,” he sighed, “I know you’re a grown woman, I know you can take care of yourself. I just…I know it’s selfish of me but sometimes I just want to take care of you. Sometimes I like to indulge in the possibility that you might need me a little…”

She hadn’t said anything yet to interrupt him, and he didn’t know if it was a good sign or a bad sign.

“I don’t like it when you’re sick, I don’t like it when you’re in pain,” he continued, shuffling his hands into his pockets, “But if I’m with you, it’s my way of making sure you’re okay.”

To his surprise, she silently reached out for his hand, which he eagerly took.

“I have a confession to make, Mulder.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m a…horrible patient.”

Despite himself Mulder laughed quietly, squeezing her hand before allowing her to grab another tissue. At least she was admitting it. He could see her sheepish grin.

“What would you like me to do?” He asked hesitantly, praying that she wouldn’t ask him to leave. She sat still for several moments as if pondering, but he knew she’d already made her decision. He watched her fiddle with the tissue crumpled between her knees. Finally she sniffled and let out a slow breath.

“I think what I’d like,” she said slowly, “is some of that MEAN chicken soup and some tea…and for you to cuddle me while we watch some crappy television.”

Her face held the sweetest expression, tinted with the softest request for forgiveness. It almost brought him to his knees.

“Sure thing, Scully,” he said, his throat tight, Sure thing.“


	12. Jealousy II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Scully is jealous.

The woman was beautiful; Scully had to admit that fact as much as it pained her. Brunette, tall, well-built, willowy, dangerous…she was everything Scully perceived to be Mulder’s type.

And she was predatory, if the way she was gripping Mulder’s bicep was anything to go by.

Scully had only been gone a few minutes to freshen up after she and Mulder went to get a bite to eat for dinner. By the time she came back from the restroom, a woman had managed to wrangle her partner’s easily acquired attention. Mulder must have gone up to the counter to pay the bill when Miss Sex on Wheels nabbed him.

Dana Scully was not a jealous woman by nature. Jealousy was a useless emotion that destroyed relationships and burnt ugly black holes in the hearts that nurtured it. She took pride in the fact that she did her best to rise above said useless albeit very human emotion…at least until it came to Fox Mulder.

This made it all the more difficult when she recognized the ache in her throat and what felt like a boulder in the pit of her stomach. Seeing her partner sitting so close to another woman, being touched and teased by another woman—when she herself always needed a reason to even _stand close_ to him—left her breathless with indignation. He didn’t seem to be resisting much, either. She had a good mind to just leave the diner, get in the rental car, and leave Mulder to figure out for himself how to get back to the damn hotel.

Bracing herself for either being ignored when she approached or receiving a slightly-more-tactful equivalent to “scram, Scully”, she made her way back to her partner and Miss I Do My Best Conversing From Two Inches or Less.

It wasn’t until Scully drew close that she realized something wasn’t quite right. Mulder didn’t look as engaged as he usually did when women approached him. Hell, he didn’t even look happy. In fact, she was fairly certain she could detect his panic face when his eyes met hers.

At first she thought it might be because he could see her displeasure for the situation, but then she noticed that his fist was clenched on the lunch bar countertop, and the angle of his hips betrayed the fact that he wanted to be as far away from the press of his newest companion’s body as possible.

Then to Scully’s disbelief, in the throatiest voice she’d ever heard from him, he smiled directly at her and announced her arrival with a, “Hey, babe.”

Miss My Tan is Totally Natural I Swear’s hand froze from where it was currently caressing the back of Mulder’s neck as she turned around to look at Scully. If Scully hadn’t been so stricken herself she would have laughed at the look of shock on the younger woman’s face.

“Oh, I—I didn’t…”

“Didn’t know I had a girlfriend?” Mulder continued in the same smooth but firm voice. Scully noted with immense pleasure that he very markedly removed the woman’s arm from around his waist. She stiffened and then relaxed when she felt Mulder’s hand slid across her own back, pressing her into his side. She hesitated only marginally before following his cue and leaning into him, completely gobsmacked when he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Her vision blurred and her hearing was muffled for the next few seconds, failing to hear the final interaction between Lady Brunette and Mulder, but the next thing she knew his face was buried in her neck and both arms were around her.

“God, you took so long,” He chuckled weakly, letting her go immediately after the embrace. His hands remained on her hips in a gentle clasp, making Scully realize his display hadn’t only been about escaping from unwanted attention.

“Did you want to go on?” she asked softly, soothingly running her fingertips over his forearms, “Coffee? Movie before we head back to the hotel? Walk through the mall?” She followed the last suggestion with a sardonic grin to try and lighten the mood. Her heart was pounding.

Scully got another shock for the evening when he curled her hand in both of his and kissed it.

“I say let’s go for a walk down by the waterfront,” he suggested, “I saw some neat outlooks on the drive up here and I think my girlfriend deserves a pretty view after saving my ass.”

The boulder in her stomach was replaced by butterflies.


	13. Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: scully loves riding Mulder's face

She wishes there was an adequate word for this.

She wishes there was a descriptor in her vocabulary to properly describe how absolutely incredible this feels. She wants to express how thankful she is that the man whose mouth she’s ceaselessly grinding into loves doing this as much as she loves having it done to her—maybe more so.

His hands are gripping at her thighs as if he’s trying to pull her even closer to his face and she moans, letting her head fall back so that the ends of her hair tickle her arched spine. He’s making happy groaning noises every time she rhythmically presses her cunt against his mouth and she lets out a grunt when he gives her one especially well-placed suck. If he didn’t risk eventual starvation, she’d never want this to end.

He begins gently dragging his fingernails up and down the length of her thighs, adding yet another sensational element to the electricity her pleasure sensors are receiving. She’s just wishing she had enough coordination to run her fingers through his hair when the bottom row of his teeth _barely_ presses against the base of her clit and she’s gone. She can barely gasp his name as she loses control of the muscles serving to keep her upright and she falls back against his legs, her hands grappling for an imagined purchase. She finally manages one squeak of his name as her vision sparkles with stars.

When she can see straight again he’s leaning over her, looking absolutely delighted. She wants to laugh—he’s so clearly pleased, with his embarrassingly slick face and his fist-rumpled hair and his arousal-brightened eyes. This was worth waiting seven years for by far, especially when he brackets her shoulders with his forearms and with a smile, she realizes what’s next.

She wishes there was an adequate word for this, too.


	14. Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mulder and/or Scully realize they love the other for the first time.
> 
> (I realize this isn't a headcanon, but it came through during the time I was taking headcanon prompts.)

Her hair is brittle, her eyes are shadowed, and her skin looks dry and raw to the touch. She looks so small in her white robe, but as she stands in the hallway before him with tears in her eyes over the loss of her new friend, he swears he’s never seen anything so beautiful and strong.

When he holds her, all 105 fragile pounds of her nestled under his chin, he’s rocked with a violent wave of desire to protect her, to keep her safe, and above all things always, to keep her happy. He feels lost in this task, not knowing where to begin, all he knows is that he’s just promised himself that he won’t stop until the gloss is back in her hair and her eyes are wet with life and hope.

She’s telling him she’s not going to stop fighting, and he wants to gleefully cry “Yes Scully, yes! That’s my girl!”, but he doesn’t. Instead he watches her walk stiffly but determinedly away, and soundlessly mouths, “I love you.”

///

She stands in the hallway outside his hospital room, far enough away from the door so that he can’t see her hunched over, her arms crossed again her belly as she tries to breathe.

She wants to believe his confession came from the drugs coursing through his system, or a bump on the head (she did see a strange red mark on his face…?). But the more she thinks about it, the more she remembers the soft earnestness on his face, the gentle tone in his voice that made every inch of her skin tingle. She fights (and loses) to not imagine him whispering those same words to her in bed, her limbs heavy with sleep as he holds her.

It wasn’t until he said the words to her, in his scratchy hospital gown with tubes and wires sprawling every which way, that she realized how badly she’s been aching to hear them.

“I love you, too,” she mouths soundlessly.


	15. Snoring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Sometimes Scully snores. Mulder thinks it's adorable....

“I do NOT, Mulder!” She sounds so astonished as she stares at him from across their breakfast table where she’s cradling her coffee mug.

“You do!” He grins, “It’s very soft, like a grumble, but you snore.”

“I don’t!”

“Protest all you like,” he chuckles, “but you do, and I think it’s utterly adorable.”

She squints at him deviously, as if she’s mulling over a cutting retort but he knows she can’t come up with anything when she haughtily takes a sip of her coffee. He silently appreciates the way her robe gaps to reveal the soft curve of her breasts.

“Whether or not you think it’s adorable that I snore, it’s something you don’t mention.”

“You d– Why not?”

“You just don’t. It’s like the unspoken rule that girls don’t burp or fart,” she says matter-of-factly, and he wants to laugh out loud. He can’t believe they’re arguing about this. But then, they manage to argue - read: intensely discuss - just about anything, even during sex. It’s just how they are, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

She stands up from the table, steps to him, and kisses him so thoroughly that he hardly realizes she’s stopped until her lips are brushing a soft, “I don’t snore” before she leaves to take a shower.

 


	16. Phone Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: before they first had sex, they had phone sex

“Mulder?”

“The one and only. How are you, Scully?”

“Fine. About to go to bed and read for a while. I’m a bit wired tonight.”

“It’s been a busy week so far.”

“Yeah. So. What are you up to yourself, then?”

“I’ve been reading up on this guy who claims tha…nah, I’ll just come clean. I was thinking about you and about where we should go for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Oh. We could go to Todd’s?”

“Scully, this is a different kind of dinner, you know that. I’m not taking you out for burgers.”

“It’d be comfortable.”

“Are you uncomfortable about the thought of this being something different than our usual?”

“No, I just thought it might be nice to do something familiar.”

“Don’t you want our first dinner to be something special?”

“Does it have to be? I mean…we’ve had meals together for years.”

“I feel like you’re trying to dodge me.”

“I just don’t understand why you’re so insistent on the matter.”

“This is important to me. I want to know more about what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling…We don’t talk enough.”

“…No, Mulder. I guess you’re right.”

“So how are you feeling, then?”

“Honestly, Mulder I’m…I’m scared.”

“You’re sca…Scully…”

“I know. I know it’s silly, but I can’t help it. God Mulder, I’m a grown woman and the thought of being intimate with you absolutely terrifies me.”

“Yeah, it’d terrify a lot of women, I should think.”

“M—”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. What are you scared of, honestly? Me?”

“Of course not.”

“What, then?”

“Of…of us. I…Mulder, I know I’m not the most passionate or emotive of women, but I honestly cannot express how…God, how _precious_ you are to me, how vital you’ve become to my life. I can’t bear the thought of us addressing this thing between us and somehow having it break us apart.”

“Wow.”

“Was that too much?”

“No, I think it was just enough.”

“Am I talking complete nonsense then?”

“Of course you’re not talking complete nonsense. This is huge for us, we’re addressing something that has always been there, but we’ve had this strange unspoken agreement to never acknowledge it. If we take this step— _when_ we take this step—I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure you know what you are to me. That’s the very least you deserve…I will not give up on us.”

“…”

“Scully?”

“I…I’m here. I’m just a little overwhelmed. It’s been so long for me, Mulder. I’m also worried that…that I won’t be what you expect.”

“I promise you that you have nothing to worry about. I’m scared, too. However long it’s been for you, it’s been longer for me. I know I’m going to love every damn inch of you and every moment of that first time.”

“How can you be so sure of us? So positive?”

“Because it’s us. Look at us, Scully: despite all the crap we’ve been through and despite how we found ourselves together, something’s been created between us. I refuse to believe it isn’t something good.”

“You do make sense.”

“As for you not being what I expect, how quickly you forget that I’ve seen you naked more than once. I assure you, expectations have already been fulfilled.”

“I am relieved beyond human capacity, Mulder.”

“Don’t be cheeky. I dream about it, Scully.”

“What?”

“Those moments where I’ve seen you. I’ve dreamt about what you look like, what I’d do to bring you pleasure.”

“What…what do you think of, Mulder?”

“Heh…do you really want to know?”

“…I do.”

“I just want to touch you. Everywhere. I want to spend my time kissing every inch of your face, running my fingers through your hair, making sure you’re relaxed and happy. I always envisioned our first time would be desperate and hectic, but the way things are going, I want to savor everything.”

“You’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

“I’ve had a lot of mental practice these last few years.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

“Never had phone sex before, Scully?”

“Mulder!”

“You’ve honestly never told anyone what you’ve thought of them, what you’d like to do to them if given the chance?”

“Not…not like this. So much of this is new. I wonder if it’s different, or if it’s just the first time that I’ve ever—”

“I know.”

“…tell me more, Mulder.”

“More?”

“Yeah…more about what you’ve dreamt about. The nice stuff.”

“It’s absurdly simple. I want to watch you as you lay beneath me. I want to lean down and brush my lips against your breasts, back and forth, over and over and watch the goosebumps rise on your skin. I imagine your hips stirring against the sheets as you get more aroused and I press my hand against your smooth belly. Your skin is so cool and so soft and I can’t help but stroke it as I keep kissing and nuzzling your nipples.”

“M-Mulder…”

“I’m just in awe of you, Scully. You’ve no idea how beautiful you are and it only makes you more incredible to me.”

“I keep…I keep thinking about that shower, Mulder. I saw everything, it’s been haunting me for months—all I could think about that night was how much I wanted to touch you.”

“I wish you could have.”

“More, please.”

“I’d take your hands in mine as I slide inside you for the first time and I’d just watch your face, making sure it’s as good for you as it is for me. I’d keep reminding myself that it’s finally, FINALLY you and I’d do my best to make you feel as good as possible until you’re so exhausted you can’t keep your eyes open.”

“God, I’m so—”

“Please tell me you’re touching yourself.”

“I am. God I am, Mulder—it feels so good…are you?”

“Of fucking course I am.”

“Oh my g-god…”

“I bet you’re so soft. Are you soft, Scully?”

“Mulder, I—oh!”

“Are you coming, sweetheart?”

“MULDER, oh God, yes…YES, please yes…God…yes, yes, yes, yes, oh….yes…”

“Jesus, Scully…”

“Mul….Mul…please…please…”

“…………….”

“…please…..oh my God….”

“…………….oh, fuck! FUCK, Scully…God…ugh….”

“…………”

“…………”

“…………”

“…………”

“Mullar?”

“Mm…wha?”

“That was…I fe…”

“Me too.”

“Mmm I wish I was…with you…right now.”

“…Scully?”

“Huhh…y-yeah?”

“You know how earlier tonight you said you weren’t a passionate or emotive woman? Christ, you just blew that statement out of the water.”

“Heh…t-thanks…I think.”

“I should let you sleep.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Would you like coffee tomorrow?”

“Yes, please. Decaf, non-fat—”

“Medium caramel macchiato. I know what my lady likes, Scully.”

“I’m beginning to believe that you do.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow. Good night, Mulder.”

“Sweet dreams, Scully.”

“Oh, wai—! Mulder?”

“Yeah, what?”

“What about Marlo Plaza? For dinner tomorrow. There’s a seafood place with a beautiful patio, I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“That’s okay by me.”

“‘kay. I’m glad. G’night, Mulder.”

“Good night, Scully.”


	17. Soft Weekends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Scully and Mulder love staying in bed and cuddling; especially on the weekends.

He heard her call his name softly just as he had tossed some frozen turkey apple sausage in the pan. He smiled to himself, glad she was awake relatively early this weekend - maybe after breakfast they could drive for a hike somewhere in the afternoon. They never spent enough time outdoors when they had time off.

Wiping his hands on a towel he padded softly to the source of her voice, soft and silky as she called out his name again. He entered her bedroom and pressed a kiss to her waiting mouth, tasting mint and Scully. Of course she had brushed her teeth before calling him back to bed, she had probably quickly run a comb through her hair as well, considering how uncharacteristically smooth it looked after their tussle (or two) the night before. She was laying on her stomach, looking rumpled and warm and welcoming as she shifted so that she could hold her arms out to him. He slid back into the quilt beside her, smiling when she eagerly curled into his embrace before he even had his arms fully around her.

“Miss me?” he joked, running his fingers through the previously mentioned tresses. She nodded, wriggling deeper into his arms.

“The bed got cold,” he could hear the playful pout in her voice despite not being able to see her face, as it was currently buried into his bare chest. He could feel the cool puff of her breath against his skin and it gave him goosebumps. He settled deeper into the sheets, pulling her even closer and burying his face into the crook of her sweet-smelling neck. She was so warm. He felt her nipples harden and she let out a sigh that betrayed a little more than merely contentment.

“Scully?” he murmured, running his hand up and down the taut curve of her stomach. He could see a small, one-inch gap of skin between her form fitting tank top and her cotton panties, and he granted himself one little drag of his fingertip across it before returning his hand to her tummy.

“Mm?” Her eyes were closed and she had a bliss-filled smile on her face. Morning After Scully was rapidly becoming his favorite Scully these past few months. Only after Coming Scully and I Want to Make Love Scully.

“This morning I…I just felt like a normal guy.”

“Mmm?” Some curiosity.

“Yeah like I…I got up this morning and I thought of making breakfast for us, maybe what we could do today…what we can do tonight to spend the evening. I was thinking maybe we could take some time off this next month and go somewhere. I don’t know. Best of all I just…looked over and I saw you sleeping next to me. It almost made me want to stay in bed with you all day.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is I feel healthy and normal and…well, happy. You’ve made me happy.”

“Is this sappiness your way of telling me you made me breakfast and therefore I should thank you, Mulder?” The smile in her voice was drowsy and teasing. He laughed, lightly smacking her rear before letting her go to get their coffee started.

“Get up,” he grinned, “It’s still early and I want to take you somewhere today.”

“M'kay.” Followed by a yawn.

He began making his way to return to the kitchen when she called him back. He turned to see her partially pillow-concealed face facing him, her eyes watery and honest. With her smooth shoulders and re-tossled hair, he swore he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

“I want you to know you’ve made me happy, too,” she smiled.


	18. Kiss Me Goodnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Mulder ALWAYS ends the night with giving Scully a soft neck kiss. She always waits for it before succumbing to sleep, whether he realizes it or not.

You wonder if he’s going to do it tonight.

In the short months of giddy happiness the two of you shared before his disappearance, he ended every day with the softest kiss to your neck. He’d snuggle close, wrap his arms around you, and press his lips to your velvety skin, making every downy hair covering your body stand on end. You adored when he did that, it made you feel loved.

When you were on the run it sometimes was combined with a groan of your name or a nibble, expressing the desperation and need he had for you. Even on the nights you fought in the house you had built up and shared, that kiss would come, and the sex you two would have convinced you that it could never end.

But it had. You knew the end had been near the night he simply got into the covers with his back to you. It had been the first time in all those years he had neglected to draw you close and kiss you there, and you had bitten your knuckle as you silently cried yourself to sleep.

You left less than a month after that night.

Now after months of estrangement, he’s your partner again. You’re working together, facing the world together, and loving together all over again.

You feel his chest against your back, his arms drawing around you. He’s been getting back into condition and you quietly thrill that you’ve never seen him so strong and muscular. You recall suddenly the sight of that chest and those arms bare and above you a mere twenty minutes ago as he was thrusting into you, both of you crying because you never, never thought you’d have this again.

You figure you’ll settle for laying in his arms tonight. Maybe he’s forgotten the ritual that used to bring you such quiet joy. It’s okay, you’re just grateful he’s getting healthy and he’s in your life and your bed again.

Then you suddenly feel it: the softest nuzzle behind your ear, followed by the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt on your neck. Then a second. Then a third. Goosebumps bloom between your shoulder blades and ripple down your arms as you shudder. You’re shocked by the tears that pool in your eyes.

He’s startled but squeezes back when you grip his hand and crush it between yours.


	19. Open Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: while somewhat shy at first, once comfortable in their relationship, Scully likes to do it in public places.

“This is nice,” she murmurs against the thermal pressed against his chest by her nose. He sighs, holding her to him and nestling his face into her hair. He figures she’d rather he didn’t do that after two days of camping, but curled in the sleeping bag with her, he’s surrounded by the scent of sunshine, pine, and Scully. He can’t help but indulge a little.

“This is even better than nice,” he agrees.

Even in what little light is present in the tent he can see she’s gotten tan, her freckles emerging on her cheeks and slender shoulders. He thinks back to the secluded swimming hole they’d found that afternoon, tucked away within trees and beautiful craggy rocks. She’d turned into a water baby, laughing in the frigidity of the water before jumping into the crystal coldness. With her soaked tank top and toothy grin, he knew he’d never seen anything so simultaneously adorable and sexy in his life.

Scully is good at inspiring that.

“Ever made love while camping, Scully?” he mumbles, only half-teasing.

“No, but I’ve always wanted to make love outside.”

He feels her stiffen after her response, as though she had forgotten herself and suddenly regretted making the confession that–unbeknownst to her–made him instantly hard.

“I can change that,” he whispers, sliding his hand into her shirt to cup her cool breast. She moans softly.

All right, so technically it’s not outside, but there are plenty of people around who could hear them, and enough of a cool breeze is coming through the open flap in the tent to create an atmosphere. Scully’s sigh of approval as he slips off her sweatpants and panties is enough to convince him that this is a good idea. She shivers slightly, but he nudges the sleeping bag into a nest around them and does his best to keep her warm by working her up. She’s growling and damp all over by the time he finally relents and slides inside her.

When she comes he kisses her, absorbing her shuddering gasps and returning them with some of his own as he joins her.

“If I knew you liked to get naked outside so much I would have suggested we do this at the swimming hole this afternoon,” he half teases afterwards. She now smells like sunshine, pine, Scully and sweat, and he loves it.

She giggles and he thinks he might cry from happiness.

“You should have known,” she counters drowsily, “Why do you think I made that joke when we were stranded in Florida?”


	20. Demonstrative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: I think it's pretty canon that scully isn't the most demonstrative with her feelings, but I imagine she will sometimes burrow against Mulder, and kiss him wherever she can reach. It makes Mulder so incredibly happy when these moments happen.

This case was wearing him down to his very last thread.

He felt achy, exhausted, and weak. He had made no headway on his profile the past week, which meant at least another few days in town, slogging through records and conducting meandering interviews with witnesses and local law enforcement. Scully was being patient, but she was on this investigation in a supportive capacity; she had already completed her autopsy two days ago and he knew she wanted to go home.

So now he was standing in front of a vending machine, tucked a few yards away from their motel room, staring at the glass and trying to find a Mars Bar for Scully. She never asked for anything, one thing he could do right was to get her one of her favorite candy bars.

Except there weren’t any Mars Bars. There wasn’t even any chocolate. Just Skittles and Starbursts. And one packet of Rice Crispies.

Somehow he felt like he had failed her.

Finally he decided on the Skittles, almost expecting them to get stuck in the machine by the way things were going that week. 

He headed back to one of the two rooms they were sharing. He found Scully turning down the bed, and he was so tired that he couldn’t even rouse up happiness over the fact that he’d be sleeping by her side tonight. She smiled expectantly when he stepped towards her, holding the candy out to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said miserably, “I got you Skittles, they didn’t have any Mars Bars.”

She took the slightly crinkled packet from him, tossing it onto the night table. Without a word she stepped forward into him, snuggling into his arms and wriggling affectionately against him. Mulder was startled; ordinarily she wasn’t this overtly demonstrative—at least not outside their moments of intimacy—and the feeling of her embrace closed his throat for a moment. It felt so good to hold her.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” she murmured simply, squeezing him once and reaching up briefly on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his jaw, the highest she could reach. She pulled away to look up at him, her eyes warm and sympathetic, and he could feel it wash over him in a soothing haze of security.

Oh yeah… he suddenly remembered, feeling the silkiness of her hair against his cheek as he buried his face in her neck, Scully loves me.

And suddenly the world was tolerable again.


	21. Sunday Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: When they spend the weekend together, Mulder likes to snuggle in the morning. He wakes Scully up with tiny kisses to her face and his hamd between her legs.

You come awake slowly, drowsily, the room still considerably dark even at this morning hour. You can hear the traffic beginning to pick up outside the window, and your stomach is gently reminding you that it needs to be attended to. A small part of your brain tells you that you ought to get up, but you ignore it for now. You’re too warm and relaxed to leave this sanctuary.  
  
As you become more aware of your surroundings you recall it’s Sunday. You have nowhere to be, no obligations to fulfill and you have no desire to have it any other way right now.

You realize your right bicep is numb, owing to the beautiful woman whose back is currently pressed against your chest, her head resting on aforementioned bicep. You can tell by her breathing that she is still deeply asleep and you ignore your desire to wake her (for now) in order to completely indulge in the happiness that overwhelmingly fills you.

She’s wearing your shirt, the soft jersey fabric twisted and folded about her slender body during the night. You lightly rub her tummy through it and she sniffs, stirring slightly. Her smooth bare legs brush beneath the covers and her skin feels cool against your own. She always runs cold, but you appreciate the fact that she seems to want to have some degree of skin-to-skin contact with you whenever she sleeps in your arms.

She breathes your name softly, still wrapped in the adoring embrace of sleep and you cuddle her closer, shivering when her ass nestles closer into the cradle of your hips. She fills your embrace perfectly, substantial proof of the oft too repeated phrase “like she was made for you”.

For not the first time you marvel that she’s here with you like this, by choice, by desire. It took the two of you so long to get to this point, and now you find yourself caught in wonder at the ease of it all. She had breathed it last night as you had fallen asleep nestled beside her, and you wonder it now: _why did we fight this for so long?_  
  
You inhale her scent, certain you’re growing drunk from the sight, feel, aroma, and the HER of her…You can’t resist anymore, shifting upwards so you can look down at her and press a light kiss to her forehead. She stirs, her fingers gently twitching as she comes awake. She’s generally not a morning person, but you’ve found that little pecks will often make her a bit more agreeable to being disturbed.  
  
As soon as her eyes drift open you smile at her, a gesture she returns slightly, her face still slack with relaxation. Her gaze is soft and there are freckles everywhere on her cheeks. She’s adorable.  
  
_This is why there are poets_ , you’ve gone back to your Oxford days, _A mere sentence isn’t enough to describe this sensation._  
  
With a soft murmur of morning salutations you lift the folds of your shirt covering her torso, your hand slowly sidling down into her panties. Her folds are warm and slightly swollen with sleep and she sighs with pleasure, her hips stirring beneath your arm.  
  
“Yes, please,” she whispers drowsily. You don’t need to be told twice.


	22. Simple Pleasures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: mulder likes telling scully she's a good girl and calling her baby because it makes her squirm and he knows she likes it too

He quickly discovered early on that for a multi-faceted woman with a ceaselessly intricate make up, Dana Scully embraces very simple pleasures.

She loves bubble baths. She rubs lotion on her feet every night. She sleeps in silk pajamas. She drinks jasmine tea. She has a handful of beloved vinyl records she puts on when she cleans the house. She indulges in dark chocolate and red wine at least once a week.

His favorite discovery—one made more recently—is that she loves soft words and endearments.

The timing and allowance of these endearments are limited. They are never permitted while standing upright, at work, or when fully dressed. To dare uttering one in public would surely earn him a frighteningly stern look, and he staunchly refrains from it.

But when it’s evening, when she’s relaxed and freshly showered and in his arms (she smiles _so_ much during this time), she allows it. She allows him to touch and kiss and cradle her while they watch a movie neither can remember the name to.

Sometimes she allows him to tell her how beautiful she is. Sometimes she allows him to call her “baby”, just softly enough to brush the loose curls tickling his lips as he murmurs to her. The first time it earned him a hesitant look. The following times the word resulted in a happy squirm.

He’s attempted “good girl” twice, both occasions with his hand nestled in her panties, helping her down from her shivering peak. She trembles in his arms and sighs, a non-verbal indication that she’s pleased.

She fluffs her pillow and his pillow when they finally make their way to his bed, because another simple pleasure he’s discovered is she loves staying at his apartment.

She asks him to crack the window open because she loves to hear the sound of traffic as she falls asleep, and she asks him to hold her because…well, he’s finally starting to realize that she loves being with him.


	23. Through the Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Could you please write something involving the mirror above Mulder's bed. I have this headcannon that before he got rid of it, they had amazing sex where Mulder made Scully watch everything he did to her and she loved it, and when he was grinding her into the mattress he was talking dirty to her. Something about the combo of sight, sound, and touch all so intense all at once.

There’s something beautiful about this, something free and emotional and sensuous about watching her own body writhe and shudder. She can see the smooth slope of her own breasts, the muscles in her belly clenching every time he glides into her, the sheen of her hair as it fans out against the pillow.

They’re on their backs on his bed. She lies with her bottom half atop his, his shaft buried deep within her; from this angle his strokes are very shallow, but the thrill of seeing both of their bodies naked and raw in the mirror above them makes up for any lack of friction.

“Look at you,” there’s praise in his effort-strained voice, “Look at your body, look at how breathtaking you are.”

She’s never been a voyeur, never had any previous interest in this arguably egotistical exploration of their bodies, but he makes it acceptable. Tantalizing, even. From an almost detached point of view she finds her own slender, toned form sexy, arousing. She’s watching her pleasure as well as feeling it, and it makes it ten times better.

She watches as his strong arm wraps around her middle, holder her closer against his torso as he attempts to intensify his thrusts. Her skin almost seems to glow against the warm golden tone of his. Her legs fall open almost obscenely as they bracket his own, and she can see how pink, how wet she is. She moans as he moves his other arm to slide his hand down to pet her clit and she gasps, her back arching above him.

“Fucking incredible,” he groans, and she doesn’t know if he’s talking about them or her. She’d agree with either at this point.

She’s never seen what her own orgasm looks like before now. When she comes she has only a second to watch her face grow slack with pleasure in the reflection; she lets out one puff of breath, then her forehead twists, her eyes widen as her mouth falls open. Then the sight vanishes as her eyelids slide closed and she cries out in a long, high-pitched moan, her throat constricting and her body thrashing. She hears his voice just enough in her ear to let her know that he’s toppled with her. Even with no sight the vision of her body lying atop his is burnt into her retinas as some kind of beautiful erotic art, complete with tangled sheets and dark curtains.

She lies beside him afterwards, stroking his chest as he drifts into oblivion. She chances one last glance into the glass above them and sees a woman completely sated, completely safe, and completely in love.


	24. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: i think scully doesn't let mulder give oral a lot because they've waited so long to love each other in a physical way that she wants him to always be with(in) her, always wants him to be face to face with her so she can tell him how long she's waited, how long she's loved him and how much she appreciates him.

“Mulder—” a soft hiccup, “…please stop.”

“Mm..wha?”

“Stop, just…please stop.”

Startled, he glances up at one of his favorite sights: Scully naked, rumpled and aroused, her cheeks flushed and her hair wild from running her fingers though it. Her voice is husky with the gasps and sighs he has been eliciting for the past five minutes with his mouth between her legs.

“Am I being too rough?” He asks gently, resting the pads of his fingers on her curls. He watches the flat slope of her belly rise and fall as she attempts to slow her breathing and despite his confusion, he feels a fissure of pride that she has to collect herself for a moment.

Instead of responding to his question, she reaches for him, grasping his biceps and pulling him towards her. Surprised, he follows her lead until he’s leaning over her, poised to slip inside her. He presses his aching flesh against her softness and she sighs, a pleased smile blessing her face as she gazes at him. He’s still puzzled that she stopped him; he loves going down on her, and always got the impression she enjoys it, too.

“Don’t you want me to—?”

“Inside me, please?” her voice is sweet, her hands running slowly up and down his arms. He rubs against her again and she moans, her eyes slipping shut briefly before she smiles at him once more. He feels like he’s won the lottery every time she does that.

“I want to see your face,” she breathes, wriggling between his limbs, “I like when you’re down there, but this…this is better.” He smiles as her eyes drift all over his face and he feels warmth traverse his body at the gentle wonder in her expression. He presses against her, her sigh interlacing with his groan as he slides into her silky heat.

“Yes, Mulder, yes…” her voice is choked and he kisses her as their groins meet. Sliding his hands beneath her shoulder blades he rubs his nose against the elegant arch of hers. This time he gets a full fledged grin and a happy giggle that turns into a whimper as he begins to thrust shallowly. Her hands cup his face as she presses intermittent kisses all over his cheeks and forehead.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” she whispers, shuddering from a particularly deep thrust, “However many times we—ungh—do this, I can’t help but remember how much I’ve wanted you, how hard I—oh!—tried to fight it….I’m so glad I don’t have to anymore. Oh Mulder, that feels so good…”

It’s rare for her to be so verbose about her feelings, let alone during an intimate moment like this, and he relishes it, attempting to mirror every word she’s saying with the movement of his body against hers. He whispers back to her, kissing the cool shell of her ear as he confesses all the things she never allows him to say outside of this bed.

“When I remember I’m with you like this,” she groans into the crook of his neck, “all I want to do is remind myself of it again and again.”

It’s the most beautiful thing a woman has ever told him in bed, and he makes a silent promise to both himself and to her that she will never have a reason to ever stop feeling that way.


	25. Body Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: This isn't a smutty request, but a fluffy one. I feel like it's pretty safe to assume that scully has body image issues (bee pollen), but Mulder does his best to make her feel as beautiful as he sees her.

“Just fruit for lunch today, Scully?”

She glances up from her fruit cup to regard him as she slides a slice of peach into her mouth.

“Yes, just fruit,” she says carefully, “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” was his response, “I know you watch what you eat and I know you go running at least four times a week and you walk everywhere. You’re an active person, I don’t know how you do it on so little.”

“Mulder,” she admonishes, her voice almost defensive, “Really, I don't—”

His hand slides across the desk where they’re sitting on either side. He squeezes her wrist briefly before letting go.

“I’m not trying to shame you or give you a hard time, Scully,” his voice is soft and soothing, and she feels her bristles come down a bit, “I guess I’m just surprised that you feel the need to be so meticulous about your weight. You’re tiny and you’ve always been thin as long as I’ve known you.”

She fiddles with her plastic fork before setting it down on Mulder’s desk and nervously rubbing her palms over her knees.

“I don’t like my legs,” she confesses softly, “They’re so short and any weight I have tends to make them look chunky and since…since my disappearance I’ve had a patch on my stomach I can’t get rid of.”

He chuckles and she glances at him sharply.

“Scully, from what I’ve seen, you have better abs than I do,” he says with affection and admiration. She blushes, knowing he’s referring to the scant thirty seconds he saw her naked and covered in slime when he extracted her from an incubation pod in Antarctica a year ago. She doesn’t know whether to be embarrassed or flattered that he noticed her body.

“You’re beautiful and you’re at a perfect weight,” he states, and Scully is almost unnerved at the unfamiliar tone of reverence in his voice, “You don’t need my validation, but I think it’s important that you know that.”

A flush covers her face and neck and she smiles softly.

“Thank you, Mulder.”

He stands up suddenly and startled, she follows him with her eyes as he makes his way towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s almost time for lunch and I think I’ll head to the gym,” he grins playfully as he slips on his coat jacket, “If you’re going to be the health nut in this partnership I think I need to start watching my girlish figure, too.”


	26. Blue Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Mulder occasionally slips a finger in scully's ass during sex or foreplay.

She needs to remember to time him one of these days. They’re not even halfway through _Laura_ , and by the time McPherson has realized the woman he’s fallen in love with isn’t dead, Scully’s shirt is unbuttoned, her pants are undone, and Mulder’s hand is buried comfortably in her underwear.

She should know by now that her late-night oldies evenings always end like this when Mulder comes over, but it’s not as though she plans to complain. Especially when he has two fingers deep inside her and he’s got her so worked up at this point that a stiff breeze might be just enough to tip her over.

The blue light cascading from her television set is fragmented by the shadows of her and Mulder’s tangled limbs. She stares at his arm resting atop her stomach, noting the fine tendons and silky hair, wishing she had enough muscle coordination to touch his skin. Her blood is as heavy as lead and warm as molasses. She gasps slightly when his pinkie runs softly over her anus.

“Is this okay?” his whisper is hot and moist against her neck, sending shivers down her arms.

“Yes,” she bites the slick flesh of the inside of her lip, “Oh God yes, it’s okay…”

She feels him smile as he increases the pressure, the tip of his pinkie sliding inside just as his thumb brushes her curls on its way to her clit. She clenches once and gasps, gripping his thighs hard. He’s inside her in every way and it’s almost too much.

“Watch it, Scully!” he chuckles weakly, and she slackens her grip slightly so her nails are no longer biting through his jeans.

“Ungg…Mulder…” she grits through her teeth, her back arching against him. She’s going to fall any minute, surrounded by his arms and his warm chest against her back and his gentle lips on her ear and his fingers buried in her pussy and her ass. She feels his erection hot and solid against her butt cheek and she moans, wishing she could feel his skin against hers. His tongue on her neck will have to do.

His thumb glides smoothly over the pearl of her clitoris and she gasps loudly. Right before she spills over she slides her palm over his heated crotch and he groans, thrusting into her hand once before she begins to come. She wails out his name, her voice high pitched and shrill as her hips thrust frantically against his hand. She’s dimly aware of his voice in her ear groaning her name, of her toes splaying out and her jeans chaffing against the back of her thighs as she thrashes.

It takes several minutes for them both to stop gasping, Dana Andrews’ husky 1940s voice lowly filling the silence between their breaths. Mulder’s hand remains nestled in her panties, his other hot palm drifting slowly over the planes of her hips and belly. The warmth from his body that previously heightened her senses now soothes and lulls her, but she remembers she’s leaving him hanging.

She fumbles behind her, blindly reaching for the fastening of his pants, and is surprised when he nudges her hand away and kisses her temple.

“Uh…I’m not going to need that, Scully,” he chuckles weakly, “You caught me a bit by surprise, there.” Her brain still isn’t working quite properly, and she misses his meaning for a moment.

“Wha ar’…? Oh!” she giggles when she realizes what happened, and his sheepish laugh joins hers.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, burying her face in his neck and sighing happily. Her body feels so heavy and relaxed. Mulder might have to carry her to bed.

“Don’t be,” he breathes, “Any way with you is a good way.” She nods, agreeing.

“Are you staying tonight?”

“I’d like that,” he nibbles his answer against her shoulder.

“Let me build up the strength in my legs again and I’ll get you some towels.”

He chuffs and squeezes her once.

“Sounds good.”


	27. Cowgirl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Scully likes cowgirl cause she can give mulder a show

He wants to laugh with the sheer joy of it. They’ve been together 67 times since the first time (because of damn course he’s counted, how could he not count?), all in various ways, moods, and positions. But this—THIS is his favorite.

She’s so beautiful like this, so beautiful that it almost hurts him. He loves leaning over her as he thrusts deeply into her sweet warmth, and he loves covering her lithe back as he nibbles at her shoulder blades, but Scully above him is his absolute favorite. He can see everything: her face as her eyes drift shut in pleasure, the angular slope of her throat as she tilts her head back, her soft breasts, her muscled belly, her smooth thighs. Her body scalds his fingertips as he memorizes every part of her to be remembered until the next time.

 _Fire in the Sky_ is playing quietly across the room from their soft, laughter-wreathed coupling, and he sees her glance over just as a peach-tinted alien gets a close up. Startled, she jerks and chuckles and it clamps her tighter around his aching length. He groans at the sensation.

“Scully, don’t do that,” he grits between his teeth. He’s caught between the promise of nirvana and never, ever wanting to leave her.

“What, Mulder?” she sounds almost giddy, and it clenches at his heart, “This?”

She squeezes again, deliberately this time and he moans at the feeling of slick velvet caressing his skin. He grips at her sleek hipbones, suddenly remembering she’s here and that this is real. A rush of warmth burns through him.

“I need a distraction,” he says more to himself than to her, but he knows she hears it when her eyes glint. She leans back, gently cupping her breasts, and her smile is one of pleasure and mischief.

“Jesus, Scully, not that kind of distraction!” He cries out almost desperately.

“No, Mulder?” The tease in her voice makes him impossibly harder. She’s caressing her torso, her fingertips almost lovingly touching her own skin. He swears she leans back a little, almost as if she’s enjoying giving him a show. He knows he shouldn’t be looking if he wants any degree of control—he could be watching a grimy Robert Patrick on the screen across the room, he could be looking at the neon glow of the fish tank backlighting Scully, he could stare at the mess atop his desk…

“Is this better, then?” Her small hand slides down the length of her stomach until she’s absently brushing against her pubic hair. The slight fumble of her fingers shifts to where they are joined and he feels her touch reverberate between his hips and up and down his thighs. She lets out a slow, soft “mmm…” just as she slides down further onto him and he’s gone before he can even beg her to stop making him lose his mind.

When he drifts back to some semblance of reality, he can hear humming explosions coming from his television set and can feel Scully’s warm breath on his face. He can’t hear what she’s saying but he knows she’s smiling, teasing him still if the lilting cadence of her voice is anything to go by.

He reaches up to brush the hair from her face and then moves to cup her soft ass. What she doesn’t know is that now _she’s_ the one who’s going to need a distraction…


	28. Appreciation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mulder likes to kiss the expanse of scully’s back after sex

His hand trembles almost imperceptibly across her skin, his fingers dragging across the fragile valley of her spine.

She has a beautiful back. Warm and strong and smooth; beautifully muscled but elegant in its own way as it curves and dips into the soft swell of her ass.

She sighs softly into her pillow, dazed and happy. The hairs on his forearms stand up at that noise, the groin-tingling sound of a woman satisfyingly fucked.

He leans over her, dragging the tip of his nose against the angles of her scapula. He nuzzles the tiny hills of her spine before he opens his mouth and gently sucks between her shoulder blades. He feels her muscles tense slightly then relax as he touches the tip of his tongue to her skin, tasting the salt of her perspiration and the warmth of her humanity. He kisses the length of her entire back, adding little nips to her ribs and following the coil of her tattoo with his tongue. He wants the taste and smell of her with him always.

“Mulder, what are you doing?” Her voice is teasing and amused, soft with affection. He smiles against her skin.

“Enjoying you,” he murmurs.


	29. The Things They Love

The things she loves:

His rolled up dress shirt sleeves. The watch he wears every day, even on his days off. The smell of his aftershave. The glow from his fish tank. His crazy, stupid ties. The line of his suits. His well-worn runners. His threadbare Knicks jersey. His Aztec blanket. His assortment of past due Pop-Tarts. The whole wheat bread he keeps in the freezer for her. The 1% low fat yogurt he keeps in his fridge for her. The grape nuts he keeps in his pantry for her. The toothbrush he has on his bathroom sink for her. The photo of her entire family he has framed on his bookshelf. His scribble handwriting. His slideshows. The way he nibbles on sunflower seeds. His glasses.

The way he shyly whispers “C’mere, babe”. His goofy boyish grin. The way he sighs in his sleep when she kisses his forehead. The coffee he makes for her on lazy Saturday mornings. How caring and compassionate he is to victims. How unforgiving he is to criminals. How good he is with children. How much he loves his friends. How loyal he is. His laugh. His snort. His chuckle. His sneeze.

His five o’clock shadow. The mole on his cheek. His floppy haircut. The silky hair on his forearms. That plush lower lip. His cute little chipmunk teeth. His V-line. His gunshot wound. The scar on his thigh. The freckles on his shoulders. His sonorous voice. The curve of his brows. The coolness of his earlobe. The heat of his collarbone. The bulge in his sweats. The patch of hair on his chest. His rough, gentle hands. The way he chuckles shyly when she comes onto him. His smooth, warm cock. 

The way he touches her. The way he hugs her. The way he cradles her. The way he kisses her. The way he nuzzles her. The way he goes down on her. The way he makes love to her. The way he fucks her.      

The way he loves her.

///

The things he loves:

Her cross. The three inch pumps that do wonders to her calf muscles when she wears them with a skirt. The smell of her shampoo. The sheen of her lips when her gloss is newly applied in the morning. Her jewel tone suits. Her size five-and-a-half sneakers. Her silk pajamas. Her great grandmother’s quilt draped over the back of her sofa. The bowl of fresh fruit always stocked on the kitchen table. The Costco-bought pizza she keeps in the freezer for him. The 100%-all-the-good-stuff-including-fat milk she keeps in the fridge for him. The enormous bag of sunflower seeds she keeps in the pantry for him. The razor set she has in the medicine cabinet for him. The neatly organized issues of _The Lone Gunmen_ on her bookshelf. The little sticky notes she leaves on his desk reminding him to file this, to shred that. Her ponytail when she’s performing autopsies. The way she nibbles on her thumbnail when she’s nervous. Her glasses.

The way she shyly whispers “I love you, Mulder”. Her toothy grin. The way she mumbles into her pillow when he wakes her up with kisses. The cheesy, peppery breakfast omelette she makes for him on lazy Sunday afternoons. How determined and resilient she is. How brave and intelligent she is. How good she is with children. How loving and open she is with the people in her life. How loyal she is. Her laugh. Her guffaw. Her giggle. Her sneeze.

Her fluffy hair when she lets it air dry after a shower. The beauty mark on her upper lip. The silky gloss of her hair. Her toned arms. Her full mouth. Her adorable slight overbite. Her abs. Her gunshot wound. The scar on her hip. The freckles on her cheeks and shoulders. Her husky voice. The slope of her breasts. The line of her throat. The silky down of her belly. The curve of her mons. The soft curls between her legs. The elegance of her hands. The way she moans when he kisses her neck. Her slick, warm slit.

The way she touches him. The way she hugs him. The way she makes him feel wanted. The way she kisses him. The way she snuggles into him. The way she goes down on him. The way she makes love to him. The way she fucks him.

The way she loves him.


End file.
